Like Shooting Stars
by Kari Twilight Mist
Summary: "I wish I will become someone someday. Someone everyone wishes they could be." When Mihael's wish for fame ends, he wishes he could make some wishes on airplanes to change things back to the way they were. Based on Airplanes by B.o.B  OOC M/M AU


**Disclaimer: I do not own anything in this chapter or story!**

**Anonymous reviews enabled!**

Happy Birthday Kittypup-lov on Mangabullet!

Suggested listening: _Airplanes (Feat. Hayley Williams of Paramore)_ by** B.o.B** _Sweet Child O' Mine_ by **Guns N' Roses **(They will be linked to on my webpage)

Like Shooting Stars

**November 20, 2004**

Two boys sat on the porch of an orphanage. Side to side they stared at the starry night sky. One of them quickly nudged the other and pointed to their left. "A shooting star! Mihael, make a wish!" His companion closed his eyes briefly then turned to the speaker with a grin.

"I made one. I know I can't tell you or else it won't come true, though." A small hand brushed a curtain of blonde hair to the side so the owner could see his companion better. In the darkness the red hair of his friend looked almost black. The goggles tangled in his companion's hair made a strange silhouette. He reached out and engulfed his companion in a one-armed hug and rested his cheek on the others' head.

_I wish I will become someone someday. Someone everyone wishes they could be._

**December 13, 2007**

The same two boys sat in a small club sipping beers and feeling sneaky. The blonde was officially eighteen as of that day. He had managed to convince the pseudo-bouncer to allow his almost eighteen-year-old friend in for a drink as well. _"He will be in less than two months!"_

With two pints of beer in his system the karaoke in the corner of the club looked rather inviting. The blonde stood up and ambled his way to the karaoke stand and slurred to the d.j, "Play _Sweet Child O' Mine_." The d.j. winced but he did. The music started and the blonde began to sing. Everyone's jaw dropped, including his companion's. His voice was good and his emotions strong as he sang.

Every eye in the club turned to face him and when the song finished the blonde staggered back toward his friend while giggling madly. Just before he got to his friend, a man stood in front of his path.

The man had a large chilling smile. The blonde squinted up at him, as if that would clear the blurriness in his vision. The man was wearing an expensive-looking white suit and had a very odd beard. "Hi there. I'm Rod Ross of Cosa Nostra Records. I came here for a drink and stumbled across a diamond in the rough it seems. How would you like to come by my local studio later and make a demo? With a voice like that, people will be opening doors for you in no time." He handed the staggering teen a business card. The blonde shut one eye and squinted hard at him then giggled.

His friend went up to him and pulled him aside. "Maybe later" the redhead said in a very dismissing way. The redhead had only had one pint so he helped lead his friend out of the bar and drove them home in a car he had borrowed without permission from their orphanage.

That was the blonde's final day at the orphanage. After that he was on his own until February second when the redhead would join him. Together they would face the world.

The redhead dragged them inside the building and to the blonde's room. He deposited his friend there and lay next to him on the small bed.

He had done that for years. They were best friends after all. The redhead wished they could be more, though. The blonde next to him was still. The redhead thought he was asleep until he spoke up.

"If I sing… maybe I'll be somebody. Maybe."

The redhead sighed. "Mihael, that guy might be a swindler. I don't trust him."

The blonde cuddled next to him and muttered something about a star. Then he was dead to the world.

**December 14, 2007**

With a pounding headache the blonde crawled out of bed. He gathered all his belongings in a suitcase left outside his door. Everything he had didn't even fill it up. He bit his lip then nudged his friend. The redhead blearily opened his eyes.

The blonde shuffled a bit then spoke up. "I have to go. It's time."

The redhead sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Tell me when you're situated." The blonde nodded and hugged the redhead. Without another word he left.

He had no clue where to go. No jobs applied for. Not enough money to get a flat or even a cab. But he did have a business card, his only possible lifeline, and he was desperate enough to try it.

**February 1, 2009**

The blonde woke up with a growl. His hand slithered out from under black silk sheets to slam the snooze on his alarm clock. He missed the button and instead hit the radio button. He heard his own voice belting out over the airwaves. In less than two years he had become the name on every list. The one people paid through the nose for just to have him show up for a few minutes. He was the someone everyone wished they were. But that came with a price.

Mihael the orphan boy was a bad past to have for a pop rock star. It was too _Oliver Twist_. Instead he was Mello, the badass, temperamental, chocoholic blonde with a penchant for skin-tight revealing leather. His old life was shrouded in mystery. "Keep 'em guessing. It keeps them wanting more," was what his agent Rod said. The same Rod who recruited him out of the club.

The blonde groaned and got up. He stretched and his back popped. Sluggishly he took a shower and dried off. He pulled on his leather and shuffled to his kitchen. His penthouse loft in New York City was huge. The simple walk from his bedroom to his kitchen was longer than the length of some people's bedrooms.

His custom-made automatic coffee machine brewed a special coffee blend and added chocolate syrup to his cup simultaneously. With a sigh he looked at his calendar then froze. Matt's birthday. He and Matt had an informal agreement they would help each other. Mihael had promised he would call him when he got situated. He had been situated for years, but it was too risky to call him.

The coffee maker buzzed to let him know it was done. He took the cup and blew on it then sipped. He bowed in head over it and felt guilt wash over him. Immediately he snapped out of it. Mello never regretted anything. Mello was perfect. Mello was who everyone wanted to be.

**October 12, 2011**

Mihael's hand clenched against his cell phone. "What did you say?" he asked in a harsh and demanding tone.

There was a sigh on the other line. "I said, people just aren't interested in you anymore. I'm dropping your contract. You have plenty of money so it should all be fine. There's only so much I can do and you've become old news. Come by my office in an hour and we can end things with dignity."

Mihael grit his teeth then agreed. _This is it._ _This is the end of my fifteen minutes of fame._ He went to Rod's office and signed the final paperwork. _Final._ The word was heavy in his psyche.

When he got back to his loft apartment he called a few of his old contacts. Every time they went to an answering machine. Every time they never picked up.

Night fell and he stared at the sky out of his large bedroom window. There were no stars visible, just planes. A tear fell down his face as he wished one of those planes could be a shooting star. He would do anything for another wish.

He would do anything to be just Mihael from then on. In desperation he called his orphanage saying he was a friend of Matt's. Mail hated his name so he always asked to be called Matt. It was too early there due to the time difference, so he left another message. In it he asked if there was a number that belonged to Matt that they knew of.

He climbed into bed with a heavy heart; kicking himself for not keeping in contact with the only person in the world who didn't like him for the money.

**October 13, 2011**

Mihael's sleep was shattered by his cell phone ringing. Blearily he grabbed it where he had left it next to him on his bed. "Hello?"

There was a tittering on the other line then a throat was cleared. A woman's voice spoke up, "Mr. Mello -I mean Keehl- I was able to find a number a boy nicknamed Matt left years ago with specific instructions to give it to you if asked. Do you have a pen and paper?"

Mihael jolted upright. "I will in a second." He rushed to his kitchen and took a pencil and paper from a drawer there. "Got them." The woman gave him the numbers and offered to give her own as well if he wanted. He thanked her but declined then hung up quickly.

He then stared at the numbers. There was no reason whatsoever he would pick up if he were Matt. He would tell himself to fuck off or something worse. But Matt was his final lifeline. _Final._

He called and waited. The phone rang four times. Just as it was about to go to the answering machine, it was picked up. A deep voice spoke on the phone; deeper than he remembered and almost gravely. An inhalation was heard in between words and it occurred to Mihael that the speaker was a smoker.

"You're a grade A aresehole you know that?" There was another inhalation and exhalation. "I was scared to death for you then I hear you on every bloody station in the world it seems. Mello. Odd name but I think I know why you used it." Another pause. "I never read of you being with anyone in the thousands of articles plastered in every magazine and website in existence it seems either. Lots of speculations you were gay, though." Another pause then the voice got irritated. "You gonna talk or what?"

Mihael hadn't noticed he was crying a bit until he spoke. "Matt." It was all he could think to say. In that one word alone he heard sadness, guilt, relief, self-loathing, and hope all rolled into one. He let out a half-sob half-laugh. "I wish the airplanes were stars. I wish I could take back that stupid wish to be the one everyone wanted to be. I wish I could make things right."

There was a pause then a chuckle was heard. "You idiot. You're not the only one who wished on it. I wished as well. I wished you would find happiness, even if it wasn't with me."

Mihael hung his head. "I thought I had it. But I doubt I ever truly did." He shook his head and his hair framed his face. "Tell me about you. You know all about me."

He could hear the grin in the redhead's voice as he told Mihael about his life. He had moved to London and worked in a video game store by day but as a hacker by night. His alias M477r1xx (pronounced Mattrix) was known in the greatest hacking circles worldwide. In his spare time he had been keeping track of everything about 'Mello' he could find. Mihael wasn't sure how to feel about that. When Matt told him he had given up waiting for Mihael's call, Mihael winced. Then Matt said something that made Mihael's jaw drop.

Matt had moved to New York City and relied solely on his hacking to get by. If Mihael wanted, Matt could be at his apartment in less than an hour.

Mihael was speechless for a long moment. "Why would you care after all the shit that's happened?"

There was a pause then Matt, said in a neutral tone, "Because I've been in love with you for years, and by you not hooking up with anyone I wondered if the feeling was mutual."

Mihael exhaled as he realized that was true. He had been denying himself anyone to date or just have sex with because deep down he had only wanted to be with Matt. After the silence stretched on he heard Matt say, "Thought so."

Mihael ran his hand through his hair and gave Matt his address. "I'll tell the doorman to let you up." Matt made an affirmative noise and hung up.

The wait was excruciating. What could Mihael say or do to truly make things even remotely right?

When he heard Matt knock on the door, he opened it hesitantly. In front of him, Matt stood in the same outfit he always wore. A striped shirt, a hideous furry vest, those stupid ribbed jeans, and those big clunky combat boots. Nestled in his unruly mop of red hair were his signature goggles.

Mihael stepped to the side and let him in. Matt looked appreciatively around the place then turned to Mihael and suddenly grabbed him into a kiss. Mihael was shocked but slowly reciprocated.

No words were spoken as both ran their hands down each other's bodies. The kisses were silent apologies. Silent begs of forgiveness. Silent promises to never leave again. Silent acceptances.

They made it to the bed after having stripped each other. The movements, skin against skin, cries of pleasure and pain from loss of virginity took over the whole room. Every move was almost sacred in its feeling.

As they lay back in the huge bed, Mihael wrapped his arm around Matt as Matt curled up and laid his head on Mihael's chest. Before he closed his eyes, Mihael saw an airplane fly in the night sky and smiled.


End file.
